


Cause Nobody Saves Me Baby the Way You Do

by louisniall



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Bottom Louis, Freezing Time, M/M, Table Sex, That goes against ALL my morals, Top Harry, powers, this is the worst thing ive ever written
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-08
Updated: 2014-09-08
Packaged: 2018-02-16 16:07:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2276040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/louisniall/pseuds/louisniall
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i> He walks over to the window and just as he gets there he freezes, his eyes transfixed on the curtain. It's blowing outward like it should be, since the window is open, but there's no wind and the curtain isn't rippling like it should be — it's almost as if it's frozen. Nervously, he sticks out his leg and nudges it, relieved when it gives, but tenses again when he pulls his foot back there’s a dent where his foot was, and other than that it hasn't moved. He backs away slowly, thinking, </i> what the fuck is going on? <i>  When his eyes dart to the clock, it still says 7:45. He's been up for at least three minutes, and now he's truly terrified. </i></p><p> </p><p>or the one where Louis wakes up and has some weird power and utilizes it towards getting together with Harry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cause Nobody Saves Me Baby the Way You Do

**Author's Note:**

  * For [strong](https://archiveofourown.org/users/strong/gifts).



> so first off this fic is for the lovely amazing **SKYE** [(twitter)](http://twitter.com/daddyhair) [(ao3)](http://archiveofourown.com/users/strong) because today is her BIRTHDAY and this is her gift :)
> 
> on another note i kind of wrote this on a whim and it kind of sucks, but i guess that's more for you to decide and not me. i got the idea because when i was younger i used to pretend i could freeze time and do whatever i wanted, especially kiss the boys that didn't like me back (i was weird, don't judge me)
> 
> uhh this might be really strange for some people so i guess like watch out? if you don't like it, don't comment, thats all i have to say ! :) 
> 
> title is from the song FIREPROOF by one direction because it was released TODAY

If you were to ask Louis how he felt about superheroes when he was younger, he'd probably shit himself at the thought of being able to shoot laser beams from his eyes and save the pretty girl from the wrath of the villain.

If you were to ask Louis how he felt about superheroes when he was a teenager, he'd probably talk nonstop, whipping out the comic book he was reading from his bag, pushing his glasses up his nose and pointing out all the cool stuff we wished he could do.

If you were to ask Louis about how he felt about superheroes now, as a twenty-two-year-old pop star, he'd just smile. Smile with his teeth and then laugh as you leaned forward, anticipating his answer. He'd say: "They're lovely."

And you'd think, _lovely? Superheroes, lovely?_ And as if he could read your mind, he'd nod.

It's on his twenty-second birthday that his brain almost fries.

Harry wakes him up with a good morning text from the hotel room next door ( _haaaaappy birthdaaaaay leewwwwiiiisssss :D)_ , and Zayn wishes him happy birthday with three ounces of weed on his nightstand. ( _"This cost me £300, don't fucking share it with anyone, you dick. Happy birthday, love you."_ ). He sits up and stretches in bed, popping out the kinks in his back and eliciting satisfied squeaking noises as his muscles pull and feel _so_ good. He checks his phone and reads his birthday texts from family members and Harry, and checks his twitter, reading through millions of _happy birthday!_ s and whatnot. He tweets about how old he feels and then bundles himself up in his blanket when he realises it's -15 degrees and feels a chill run down his spine and goose bumps rise on his skin. He wishes he could stay in this moment forever, be bundled up as happy and warm as can be. He blinks harshly at a piece of sleep in his eye and sighs happily, lying back against the pillows.

He notices it then — that's when it happens the first time.

He reluctantly gets out of bed when he realises its 7:45 and he should shower for the "surprise party" the boys have planned for him. He notices the air has a crispy feel to it — like a layer of plastic wrap has been placed over his life.

He walks over to the window and just as he gets there he freezes, his eyes transfixed on the curtain. It's blowing outward like it should be, since the window is open, but there's no wind and the curtain isn't rippling like it should be — it's almost as if it's frozen. Nervously, he sticks out his leg and nudges it, relieved when it gives, but tenses again when he pulls his foot back there’s a dent where his foot was, and other than that it hasn't moved. He backs away slowly, thinking, _what the fuck is going on?_ When his eyes dart to the clock, it still says 7:45. He's been up for at least three minutes, and now he's truly terrified.

He thinks maybe he's just really cold so he gets into the shower, ignoring the way the curtain stays entirely still unless he moves it, and forgets all about his weird morning as he lathers himself and hums.

He gets out of the shower and checks the time — 7:45. _Fuck._

His first instinct is to call Zayn, so it's exactly what he does. The line rings and rings and rings but he doesn't answer, which is unusual even for this ungodly hour of the morning.

He sighs and rifles through his bag for the master key for their rooms they were given and slips out into the still hallway, trudging down to Zayn's. He knocks and when there's no answer after several minutes he opens Zayn's door, stepping in and shutting it silently as he see's Zayn is still asleep. He pads over to Zayn's bed and shakes him, whispering his name every so often. He doesn't wake and Louis is completely terrified. He flips Zayn onto his back and checks for his pulse, just in case — shit. Zayn's hasn't got a pulse.

Louis sits down on Zayn's bed, his head in his hands as he panics slightly. He wills and wills for this to end, that this is the worst thing that's ever happened to him. He wipes tears from his eyes that he didn't know was there and suddenly there’s a foot kicking his arse. "What the fuck mate?" Zayn grumbles, and Louis turns, watches as his best friend sits up in bed, completely alive and _very_ annoyed.

"Thank _god_ ," Louis says. staring in awe at Zayn. "I thought you were dead."

Zayn rolls his eyes. "I was asleep mate. Know the difference."

Louis swallows. "But you — the curtains — the time —"

Louis glances at his phone clock. 7:50.

He leaves Zayn's room without another word.

 

#####

 

The second time it happens is during a tour rehearsal in January. They're learning basic choreography and placement for Best Song Ever and how it'll end the show.

It's when Niall accidentally elbows him in the eye and he rubs it furiously, blinking out tears, wishing he wouldn't have idiotically gotten down to tie his shoe during a song, that he notices it's gone completely silent.

He lifts his head, his eye still a bit hazy, and his breath catches in his throat. Everyone is frozen — their choreographer is stuck pointing, his mouth open in instruction and eyebrows furrowed; Niall is in _mid-air,_ his arms holding an air guitar; Zayn is in the middle of his high note at the end, his neck veins popping out devilishly; Harry's in the middle of fixing the scarf on his head, a curl frozen in mid-fall; and Liam's bent over next to him, a concerned look on his face as his buddy hasn't lost an eye to Niall's elbow.

It's all too much and he must be fucking dreaming. He quickly pulls out his phone and reads it to be 13:07. He runs a hand through his messy hair and stands, walking in and out of the boys, weaving through them, running a finger under their noses to make sure they’re not fucking with him — none of them are breathing and none of them are blinking, either.

Louis steps back and looks at them, how they look like a paused movie, and feels a wave of nausea hit him. _What the hell has he done?_

Curious, he pushes the door open into the hallway and isn’t surprised when it doesn’t swing back into place like usual, and makes his way towards the parking lot outside. When he steps out into the sunlight, not only are the cars on the parkway next to him not moving, the clouds aren’t, there’s no wind, a puff of smoke coming out of a truck is frozen in a cloud of black smoke.

His head is whirring. He has no idea why this is happening, why his world keeps freezing, and why the _fuck_ it’s happening. His brain hurts and as he trudges back inside and opens the door his eye starts to tear up again and he wishes so badly he wasn’t this fucked up and that his world would _un-fucking-freeze_.

“Louis?” Says a voice, a deep drawl that sounds spectacularly like Harry. He looks up and they’re all staring at him curiously. He lets out a breath and shakes his head, walking back over to the group and standing back in his spot like nothing’s wrong.

He realises everyone’s still staring at him a few moments later. “What?” he asks.

“You were literally just bent over holding your eye and then you end up back by the door,” Liam says, his eyebrows knit together in concern. “Are you like, magic?”

Louis’ brain hurts as he spits out words. “No — fuck Liam — no! Why would you say that? I’m just a normal man, I swear.” He looks down for a moment and his watch says 13:09.

No one talks about it again.

#####

Louis is sitting on his bed in his NYC hotel. His feet are propped up on a pillow and he’s leaning back on a few more, clicking through the channels for something good to watch.

His life’s been less hectic — he hasn’t fucked with time in over seven months, and he’s incredibly proud. He still has no idea what the hell has happened to him, but that’s for another day. For now, Zayn’s bringing over some weed and they’re going to get drunk and high together and pretend nothing matters for a night.

He sits in his bed thinking about it though. About what _is_ happening to him. He thinks of how the first time it happened was on his birthday, and there was dust in his eye that he blinked away and wished he could stay like that forever, all cozy under his blanket. When it ended, he wished it would end and he was rubbing tears from his eyes.

A thought occurs to him then and he wishes that he could stay happy and warm in his bed for a while, and he rubs his eyes hard, hard enough that when he stops he sees spots and the TV has frozen.

He wants to test a theory. He wants to test if maybe things that a frozen can be coaxed out of frozenness.

He grabs his room key and dashes out the door down to Harry’s room and opens it, slips in and shuts it quietly even though Harry can’t hear him. Harry’s sat just as Louis was in his room only his feet aren’t propped and — oh fucking _hell_.

Harry’s sat, his legs spread and his laptop in between them, his dick in his hand and two fingers in his arse. Louis groans and hits his head against the wall a few times, and then leans back against the door. He was hoping if he were able to unfreeze Harry he’d be doing something _not_ weird to walk in on, like ballet dancing or straightening his hair. But _no_.

Louis walks over anyway and sits on his bed, cringes at the frozen sight of Harry getting off to lesbian porn on his computer screen. The thing is he _knows_ if he unfreezes Harry now one of two things will happen — one is that Harry will flip the hell out and never speak to him again; the other could be that Harry crawls on top of him and fucks him silly while the world around them is frozen and they could travel the world in under a minute if they wanted to.

That’s another thing Louis realises — he could go anywhere and time wouldn’t change — he could go home and visit his family and be back to see the seven o’clock news in New York City. It’s scary and exciting and his breath hitches at the thought.

But for now he’s got a really hot guy with his dick in his hand and he really _really_ wants to fuck with him. It’s against his morals to even _touch_ Harry, the beautiful forbidden pop star.

He leans over and presses the tip of his finger to Harry's thigh. It's warm and doesn't give at all under his finger, and Louis has the sudden urge to, like, bite it.

Before he knows it he's somehow sat between Harry's legs with Harry's cock staring at him. Louis knows he shouldn't be doing this — he should go to his room, unfreeze time, and smoke with Zayn — but there's a part of him that won't let him leave until he's allowed to say he's sucked off Harry Styles.

He's not even sure this will work. If Harry hasn't got a pulse that means that nothing in his body is working, which means he won't come and Louis will have just wasted his time with a technically-dead cock in his mouth.

He tries it anyway — removes Harry's hand and replaces it with his own smaller one and licks a stripe up the underside of Harry's cock. It's definitely weird giving a blowjob with no moans or noises of encouragement, but at the same time it's rewarding knowing that if this _does_ work, Harry's going to come-to with a blissed out and very confused feeling and Louis will be the only one who knows about it.

Louis starts bobbing his head quicker then, shifting onto his knees and placing a hand on the bed next to Harry's naked him and suddenly remembers there's a finger up Harry's arse. Louis pulls off for a moment and pulls Harry's finger out of his hole and replaces it with his own, pleasantly surprised to find he's already nice and stretched.

The thing is, Louis has always thought Harry's attractive. He's always had a little crush on him, but never confronted him about it, maybe because Harry's just too gorgeous for him and he doesn't want to ruin their friendship. And maybe this is a little weird sucking off an unknowing person, but he feels more connected to Harry than he ever has and he kind of loves it.

He doesn't understand it, the anatomy, but Harry starts coming in his mouth and he pulls off quickly, stroking him through the weak pulses and wiping the cum off of his cheeks with his shirtsleeve. He pulls his finger out and wipes it on the sheets, gets up and leaves.

Zayn doesn't question him twenty minutes later when he sees the white stain on his t-shirt sleeve.

#####

Two days later Harry brings it up when they're sharing a van on the way to the venue. It's completely uncalled for and Louis almost chokes on the bagel he's munching on.

"Wanna know something weird?" Harry asks, playing with a loose string on his jumper. "It's a bit personal."

Louis nods, because anything that comes out of Harry's mouth is generally weird and personal.

"I was wanking the other day and I have no recollection of orgasming, but I did."

Well. He wasn't expecting that. Harry reaches over and pats his back as he chokes on his bagel. "Alright?"

Louis holds up his thumb and tries not to throw up. "Yeah, fine."

They're silent for a while, watching cars and buildings fly past.

"Is there something you want to tell me, Lou?"

Louis looks over at him, confusion etched into his face. Louis shakes his head. "No."

"You sure?"

"Yeah."

"Can I tell you something, then?"

Louis blinks. "Go ahead."

Harry just — he leans over and plants one on Louis' mouth, quick and sweet and out of pure shock Louis rubs his eyes furiously and wishes for an answer and time's frozen again.

He sits back and stares at Harry, how he's blushing like a tomato and how his lip is tucked in between his teeth, how his eyes are trained at the floor and how _nervous_ he looks. Louis has no idea what's just happened, but all he knows is that there's something going on between them that needs to be worked out.

He rubs his eyes and they arrive at the venue in dead silence.

#####

He's cornering Harry before their Nashville show and he has no idea what he should say. Harry's staring at him, bored out of his mind and unimpressed.

"So in the van..." Louis starts. Harry shrugs.

"What about it?"

Louis huffs. "You kissed me."

Harry shrugs again. "And?"

Louis throws his hands up in frustration. "You can't just _kiss_ me and not tell me what the hell it was for!"

Harry deflates a little and bites his lip. He nods. "That was kind of a shit move, yeah."

"Yeah, it was," Louis says, doing his best to be annoyed even though he literally _can't_ with this beautiful human in front of him.

"Sorry," Harry offers, holding out his hand. Louis grabs it and shakes it, and then they're called to be on stage. In a split second Louis grabs Harry's wrist and pulls him into a closet and shuts the door.

"Watch," Louis says. He brings his hands to his eyes and rubs, praying and praying that everything will go as planned.

When his fingers leave his eyes the hustle and bustle outside the door as stopped and Harry's blinking at him confusedly. Louis smiles and grabs his wrist, pulling him out of the closet. Harry's breath hitches behind him as Harry takes in the sight of a majority of their team frozen in place. "What the fuck did you do?"

Louis grins. He shakes his head in lieu of answering Harry's question.

He's yanked and then he's facing Harry, whose mouth is wide open and whose eyes are squinting in awe. "What did you _do_?"

"I froze time," Louis says. He pulls out his phone and shows Harry all the world clocks and how theirs is stuck at 21:25:14 and others behind or beyond — Harry lets out a nervous laugh.

"Can you — are you able to unfreeze it?"

Louis nods. "Easily."

Harry lets out a breath, scrubbing a hand over his face and settling it over his mouth in shock. "Have you always been able to do this?"

Louis shakes his head and sits down on one of the couches next to an unmoving Lou. Harry joins him, though cautiously, as though this is all some joke. "No. The first time it happened was when I turned 22."

Harry nods and he's silent for a moment, seemingly taking it all in. "So every time you sing 'Story of My Life' do you crack up?"

Louis really would like to know where Harry gets his sense of humour from because it fucking sucks. Louis laughs anyway and swats Harry's arm, who looks proud at his little joke.

"No you _arse_ — do you want to see something?"

"There's something even better than this?"

Louis smiles. "In my mind, yeah."

Harry nods and Louis leads him to the backstage area where the other boys are waiting, and walks past them on stage. Harry's breath hitches again. "Cool right?"

Not only are there seemingly millions of girls in front of them — but millions of unsuspecting, _frozen_ girls. It's kind of incredible.

"Holy shit," Harry breathes. "What happens when they wake up?"

"It's kind of just like they blinked. They don't know that time's stopped and they just go on like time's continuing. Which it is, but, you know."

Somehow after that he's in Harry's arms and Harry's hesitantly leaning in closer and closer and Louis just thinks _fuck it_ and closes the distance between them, taking in Harry's taste and smell and realising if he were to unfreeze time at this moment he's fuck up his entire life. He breaks off and Harry looks confused again, but Louis just grabs his wrist again and tugs him backstage.

They end up in the green room, Louis sat on a table with a bowl of bananas next to him, Harry standing in between his legs. He's vaguely aware of Calum and Michael at the other end of the table stuck reaching for bags of M&M's, but doesn't care because Harry's lips attach to his neck and he lets out the tiniest of moans, like if he's too loud the wax figures will hear him.

"How much time do we have?" Harry asks between kisses to his neck, his big hands running up and down Louis' back under his t-shirt.

Louis lets out a small laugh. "As much as we need."

"Good," Harry says, and Louis isn't one to say no to a blowjob so when Harry drops to his knees then, Louis nods and he unbuttons his jeans. Louis holds himself up on his hands so Harry can get his pants down to his knees and Harry takes his cock in his hand softly. "I've wanted to do this for so long."

"Really?" Louis asks, though the end part of the word shoots up three octave because that's when Harry chooses to take his dick into his mouth and bob all the way down to the hilt so his nose is pressed to his belly.

He comes up panting, coughing and spluttering. But Harry Styles is a trooper and continues despite his probably-aching throat.

It's _so_ good, is what Louis decides. His cock in Harry's mouth and his fingers laced in Harry's hair, scratching his scalp when he makes Louis feel particularly squirmy. Harry does some weird and amazing things with his tongue, like running around the edge of his head and dipping into his slit but it feels _too_ good for Louis to want to question his tactics.

Harry pops up then, disrupting Louis' reverie, and kisses him, his big hand still pumping his cock in slow, agonizing tugs. Louis comes in his hand without any warning, hot and sticky and _perfect_.

They kiss for a while, Louis gone soft and oversensitive in Harry's hand. He makes one of his split second decisions again, quite like the one that got him in this compromising position.

"Want you to fuck me," he says into Harry's lips. Harry stops moving, taking his hand off of Louis' cock, and thinks he's fucked up until Harry's fingers slip into his mouth. He moans and licks around them, his eyes locking with Harry's for a moment before he pulls his fingers out and pushes Louis onto his back.

Louis bites his lip as Harry slips a finger into his hole all the way up to the knuckle on the first go. He starts pumping his finger quickly, crooking it this way and that in search of his prostate and when he finally hits it Louis yelps and bites his lip till he tastes blood. " _God_ , Harry."

Harry smiles and kisses the inside of his thigh. He pulls his finger out and wipes them on the tablecloth. "Ready?" He asks. Louis sits up and kicks his pants off so they land on the floor with a soft thud.

"Yeah," he breathes. "Yeah. Go." Harry doesn't question the instruction and kicks his pants to the floor, searching in his pants for something. Louis smiles when he stands up and there’s a condom in his hand. "You seem prepared."

Harry smiles as he rolls the condom down his cock. "Been waiting for this for a while."

"Just do it already," Louis says, wrapping his leg around Harry's torso and scooting forward.

For all the people Louis has had up his arse, all nine of them, Harry is by far the biggest and best he's ever had. His thrusts are slow and deep and lovely and his tip catches against his spot every once in a while and he melts just a little farther into Harry's arms. Louis tilts his head and kisses up Harry's neck, covered in a thin sheen of sweat, biting in a bruise that'll have people talking for weeks. Harry hisses under him. "Can I go faster?"

Louis nods and bites his earlobe. "Fast as your heart desires."

And that's it — Harry turns into some sort of human jackrabbit, in and out of Louis so fast he's seeing stars behind his eyes and he feels his newly hard cock brushing against Harry's shirt with every thrust.

Louis never really tested the whole sound theory, whether sound will move if time isn't — but now he doesn't have to because their skin slapping together is echoing through the green room.

Maybe he gets self conscious and hides his face in embarrassment with Calum staring right next to his arse, or maybe he's a little turned on by the whole thing, but either way Louis comes hard in between them, getting their shirts dirty and sticky and falling out of Harry's arms backwards onto the table so Harry's angle changes and he isn't hitting his prostate dead on anymore.

At some point in his post-orgasmic bliss he feels Harry pull out and finish off in his hand. Sometime later he's hauled off the desk onto the floor and they smile at each other as they dress.

"So what now?" Harry asks as he inspects a small cum stain on his jeans.

Louis shrugs. "Head backstage and unfreeze everything."

"I meant with us," Harry says. Louis' mind is a blur of _corny corny corny corny_ but he shrugs.

"I guess we'll have to talk about it later after the show."

"Or now," Harry says. "Since we technically have all the time in the world."

Louis buttons his jeans and leads them out of the greenroom. "After the show," he says. taking his seat at his mirror backstage. "Ready?"

Harry sits in his own chair and nods, starting to hook up his mic pack on his jeans.

Louis fixes everything — everyone's moving and he's being rushed on stage and the rush of performing hits him hard and he can't wipe the smile off of his face.

If the screams at Harry are louder than normal because of the stain on his jeans, no one has to know why.

**Author's Note:**

> that's it! hope you enjoyed it, and again, HAPPY BIRTHDAY SKYE I LOVE YOU :D
> 
>  
> 
> (i think this might be the first fic on ao3 with a fireproof title YeS)


End file.
